Part One: The girl

SORSHA

I’ll fix this.

The words are fixated in the very middle of the paper. The rest is blank. White nothingness. 

I’ll fix this.

My fingers trace the soft curves of the f’s and the gentle swishes of the l’s. I see the rings around the words, some smearing the ink. 

Dried tears. 

But they aren’t mine. I’m too numb to cry now. 

I flip the note over, hoping to find some kind of instructions. 

Where to go.

What to do. 

Anything. 

Instead I find two words. 

Love, Dad

“That’s all?” I mumble, crumpling it into a ball and throwing it to the ground. 

My hands lay in my lap, limp, like a weight. 

I fall back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. 

That was all he wrote. 

Six Years Later...

“Don’t mess it up.” Eyra orders, she pauses to look me in the eye. 

Eyra pulls over and we sit silently in the hot car. 

I break eye contact with her, focusing my attention on the house in front of me. It has several red rose bushes in the front, lined up perfectly in front of an ugly red door. A red door the color of blood. 

“Do. Not. Mess. It. Up.” 

I see the crease between her eyebrows, making her look a decade older than she is. But I’ve seen it enough to not care any more. 

“Sorsha, look at me.” 

I feel her hand gently brush against my chin, pulling my face towards her. Her green eyes look glow like a feline's, playful and coy, and somehow insanely scary.

“Sorsha, I know how badly you want to run away from me. I really do.”

I snort, and cross my arms. “Riiight,” I scoff. 

“I was a foster child too. I spent my youth in this system.” She reminds me. Her face is pinched in genuine worry, unlike the many adults who pretended to love me just for the money.

“I know,” I whisper, looking away so she can’t see the tears in my eyes. 

“But you found your happy ending, you found your family.”

I turn back to Eyra and see the helplessness in her eyes. “This could be your forever family.”

I laugh. “Riight, I’ve spent years here, being passed on from family to family like a hand-me-down.”

"Sorsha, please. I had to go through this when I was your age, but it'll get easier. I promise."

I tear my hands through my hair. “You spent five years like this!” 

“Five. Years.” 

“You call that your youth?”

“Sorsha-”

I put my hand up and let out a dark chuckle. “You’re always saying it’ll be this family, then they say no.” 

I let my hands drop, knuckles curling. “I’ve been to so many families, I’ve lost count. Do you know what that’s like?”

Eyra’s gaze hardens and she grabs my wrist. 

“Do you know why you’re still here? Still swimming through this system?”

Her stone cold expression is determined. 

“It’s because you give up on yourself. I have watched you grow weaker and weaker since that day I met that stubborn eight year old girl in the conference room.”

I can’t think of anything to say.

Instead, I look away, at the house with the ugly red door.

"I-"

SWIIISH!

The rest of Eyra's sentence is interrupted by the red door swinging open. A redheaded woman waves at us. She’s wearing a bright blue blouse and white pants.

Erya and I don’t speak a word as we head up the pathway onto the porch. 

“Welcome! We’ve been waiting for you,” The woman gleefully shouts. 

Just like a horror movie, I think. 

“I’m Natalie, but you’re welcome to call me whatever you feel comfortable with."

I put on an artificial grin and peer inside the house past her slender figure. 

“We do have two kids-one boy, one girl upstairs-and if you need anything just tell us. I just made breakfast, I hope you like pancakes.”

She speaks very fast and I can barely catch the words. 

“Thanks, but I’m not very hungry,” I say. 

Natalie nods her head and starts walking inside. 

“Come on, I promise I won’t bite,” She laughs. 

Eyra nods and I follow her in. 

The house is much bigger than it appears. 

The white silk furniture makes the room glow and the red carpet makes the living room look even more glamorous. 

I quickly kick off my muddy sneakers, not wanting to ruin such a lovely room.

“I understand it’s a little bit messy, so please forgive me,” Natalie says, picking up an unfolded blanket sprawled across the sofa. 

I glance around. The living room is already about as big as the whole apartment I used to live in with my dad. 

Natalie darts away into another room. 

“Are you doing okay?” Eyra whispers into my ear. 

I nod slowly. 

"Hiiiiii!!!" A voice screams.

I almost jump. Slowly, I turn around to find a chubby, adorable, grinning, little girl.

"HI!!!!" She repeats, bouncing up and down with a fluffy blue bunny clutched between two hands.

I hear the sound of footsteps and both Natalie and another boy walk into the room.

"My goodness Celtic, inside voice please," Natalie laughs. She ruffles the girl's red hair. And I can't help but see how much they resemble each other.

"Celtic, meet Sorsha. Sorsha, meet Celtic."

I hold out my hand and wait. Celtic looks down at my dirty fingernails for a moment then jumps up and pulls me into her.

I grunt as her small arms wrap around my waist.

How is she so strong?

"Celtic, love, you're going kill her."

Eyra waves from behind me and I see Celtic's face light up.

"HIIIIIIIIIII!"

I look towards the boy, then at Natalie, unsure if I should introduce myself.

"Oh, Sorsha," Natalie says, catching my gaze. Her smile fades as she gestures to the boy.

"This is Edyn."

Compared to Celtic, Edyn is a complete opposite. His face isn't frowning or smiling. It's somewhere in a weird middle.

"Hello?" I ask, holding my hand out for him to shake.

We shake briefly, then he pulls his hand back and looks toward the ground.

Maybe this household is weird, but at least they don't have parents leaving you all the time.

"I know we can be a little chaotic, but in time I hope you learn to call us your family," Natalie says.

And... maybe Eyra was right.

Maybe this could be my forever home.

"Now," Natalie clasps her hands together, giving us all knowing glances. "Who wants pancakes?"